Live Silk Flowers
by TheTaoOfMeow
Summary: Oneshot, canon.  Time may heal all wounds, but it can't always move mountains.  Rated T for language.


**Title: **"Live Silk Flowers"

**Rating:** **T** for language

**Disclaimer: **These characters are the sole property of Annie Proulx. No copyright infringement is intended. (I'm just a fan who likes to fill in the blanks.)

**Summary: **Time may heal all wounds, but it can't always move mountains.

_**Author's Notes: **__This strange thing came up on me all of a sudden, in a frenzied haze of late-night writing brought on by the crushing stress of RL coupled with an inability to sleep, and as a result the style here is not exactly what I'd call a "proper" story -- reads more like a scripted interlude of sorts. The title was taken off a real sign that a local family of growers puts up at their stand twice a year, at Easter and at Christmas._

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(smiles) "Can I help you with anythin, sir?"

"Depends. Got somethin that has pink in it? Can't stand all this purple an yellow nonsense."

"Sure do, sir. Right behind you there. Them crosses in the back row next to the woven palm ones."

"Alright, fine. I'll take one a them then."

"That'll be eighteen-fifty, sir, includes the tax."

"Eighteen bucks? For _what? _A bunch a plastic lilies tied to a chunk a spray-painted styrofoam? You're shittin me, son."

"Well, sir, if that's a bit steep, there are others off to the side there that--"

"Some nerve you got, takin advantage a people in their time a grief."

"Um, alright then...how about a cone a daffodils? They're real pretty, and you get a dozen for--"

"Daffodils? Them damn things dry up in a day. Are you sayin that my wife don't deserve somethin nice for Easter?"

"No sir, course not...I understand. Let's see...guess I can give it to you for...fifteen, no tax?"

"Highway robbery, this is. Goddamned highway robbery. Fred Lively never charge me that much for his stuff. Too bad he had ta move."

"Here you are, sir. Got your wire and stake to mount it with already attached to the back there."

"Yeah, yeah. I've done this before, you know."

"Sorry."

"And you're wrong, by the way."

"Uh...beg pardon?"

"Meant ta say, that there _sign_ is wrong."

"It is? Hmm. Don't see no problem with it."

"Well, it's right there, unless you're blind. Everybody knows there ain't no such thing as 'live silk flowers', fool."

"Oh no...you're sure right about that. Ha-ha. Forgot to add the plus sign in-between, I guess."

"You should fix that pronto. Don't give people no reason to think you're some stupid hick...let em take advantage of ya."

"You're right...sure wouldn't want that. Ha-ha."

"People used to think I was stupid, too. Jus cause I didn't go to one a them fancy-ass colleges. Said they didn't think I'd ever amount to much neither."

"No, huh?"

"Nope. Thought jus cause I was a damn good rodeo cowboy that meant I was jus a crazy-ass sonofabitch. 'Big hat, no cattle', they said. Well, I sure showed them. Looky here--"

"What's that?"

"Aw hell, it's a silver Championship Buckle, son...ain't you never seen one before? Won it way back when in my bullridin days. Got me a drawer full of 'em. Could say I was pretty well-known around these parts. Maybe you recognize me?"

"Hmm...no, sir. Can't say that I do. Sorry."

_"Humpf. _Next thing, you gonna tell me you ain't never been to Cody in August neither."

"Ha-ha...well, sure, everybody gone at least once, right? But NASCAR is more my style. My son jus loves them race cars--"

"Shit, don't you young people nowadays know your history no more? Ah, fuck it. Was a long time ago. Before you was born, I guess. Had me a good life goin there, ridin high on top of the world...yessir, ain't nothin quite like that feelin you get, feelin like them eight seconds jus might be the longest ones you'll ever live."

"Is that right? Must've been some excitin times."

"Darn right they was. Was doin fine for awhile, real fine...until fate came a'callin. Met this pretty lil gal, boy was she ever sweet on me. Got married, had to settle down, you know? Don't look proper for no man to be a bachelor his whole life."

"You're right at that."

"So...you got kids, then?"

"Yep. Boy and a girl. Me an my wife been married for jus about six years now. Things are gettin a bit tight for us on the dairy farm though, so we run this here roadside stand twice a year to make ends meet. Really helps around Christmas -- can't have ol' Saint Nick let them down, right? Ha-ha."

"Yeah, can be rough, havin people what depend on you to provide for em an all."

"Mmm-hmm."

"I had a kid...just one. A boy. He used ta think the sun come up just to hear him crow. But he's gone now."

"Gone where?"

"Nowhere. He died. Thirty-nine years old, he was. Got him buried right there in that plot with his momma."

"Oh, oh no...I'm sure sorry to hear about that. He was young."

"Yeah, that he was."

(silence)

"Um, look...here's a small piece, jus a few blue carnations and a white bow. For your son, maybe?"

"That's alright. Don't need no more crosses today. Not for him."

"Why not?"

"Why? Cause he was a _queer, _son. And God killed him for it."

"Oh." (pause) "I see."

"His wife down in Texas called us when it happen, told us some bullshit story, said he got into an accident fixin a flat...but I knew better."

"Wife? But you jus said...uh..."

"Been leadin a double life for nearly twenty years, that one. Couldn't cut it in the rodeo ring, didn't have the strength a character for it like his old man did. But he got married jus the same, moved to Texas an all, even gone and had himself a kid too. Guess all them lies finally caught up with him. Feel bad for my grandson, real bad, havin to carry the shame the rest a his life. He joined the Air Force, last I heard he wound up bein stationed over at Warren of all places, though he don't bother with us folks out here. Only time I seen him in the flesh was at the funeral...guess that boy couldn't get away from all a that misery fast enough."

"That's awful sad."

"What's worse is my son up and got himself cremated, of all things. Family in Texas even went and had a closed-casket viewin, too. Can you believe it? Dumbest thing I ever did see. And when it was all over, the undertaker there hands my wife this little cardboard box an tells us that half of him's inside. Don't _that_ just jar your preserves."

"Well, you have my sympathies, sir. That's a heavy burden to shoulder."

"Yeah...yeah, well...it was a long time ago."

"Must be hard for a parent to bury a child."

(pause) "Huh? Oh, sure...I guess so. Was much worse for his momma, though. Broke her heart, he did. She always had a soft spot for that boy a hers. Guess she couldn't stand the thought a her livin in this world without him bein in it, so the Good Lord saw fit to call her home early." (pause) "She was a good woman."

(silence)

"Well, friend...sure there isn't anythin else you'll be needin today?"

"Nope. Reckon this here is all I came for."

"Hey...why don't you let me give you somethin for your son's memory? Got these wildflowers over here, my daughter picked them in the meadow jus this mornin...sure would make me feel better about your whole situation if you'd take em."

"Don't need to honor his memory, son, though I appreciate that. Someone else been takin care of it."

"Really?"

"Yep. Leaves a little somethin behind every time he visits. Flowers is the usual thing, candles, couple a toys sometimes...heck, the guy even writes these long letters and sticks em right to the friggin stone. Can't imagine who on Earth he thinks is gonna read em. I know I sure as hell won't."

_"He? _So...you know this person, I take it?"

"Sorta. Came to visit me an my wife not long after it happen. Said he was a friend of my son's an all, an old friend from way back, was real sorry about everythin and if I would maybe let him take them ashes an scatter em up on this mountain someplace...said that's what my boy would've wanted."

"Sounds like he cared about your son."

"Hmm. Maybe he did. 'We was fishin buddies,' was all he said. But I knew exactly what he meant by that. Huh. As if me and his momma didn't know what our own flesh and blood was up to. Some folks think I was born yesterday, tell you what."

"Yeah."

(silence)

"Guess I better get a move on here. Shit...looks like a real toad-choker of a storm is brewin. Gotta get this thing down in the dirt before it all turns to mud. Hate traipsin around in all that slop."

"Well, it was good talkin to you...uh, Mister--?"

"Twist. John Twist."

(shakes hand)

"Chet. Chet Howard. You have a good day now...and Happy Easter to you."

"Sure enough. And you remember to fix that sign, you hear? Don't want people to think you're stupid, right?"

"No, sir. Don't want that at all."

_finis_


End file.
